


make a mess, lioness

by mr_charles



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, F/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mildly Dubious Consent, Naked Female Clothed Male, omega!claire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 13:30:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3770191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mr_charles/pseuds/mr_charles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Claire is an omega without a mate. Matt just wants a second opinion on the road rash on his arms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	make a mess, lioness

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by the tags on this post: http://wtfzurtopic.tumblr.com/post/116564284463/rhaenyratargaryens-come-on-matty with the permission of the tagger. 
> 
> dedicated to said tagger.
> 
> also there's a "Legally Blonde" reference in here and I am not even sorry.

They were a birth defect— the alphas and omegas. Something to do with a mutated chromosome that doctors couldn’t fix. The number of out alphas and omegas had risen in years. Shit, when Matt was in college, he remembered hearing students cheer “OMEGA AND PROUD! OMEGA AND PROUD!” as Foggy guided him through the crowd.

“So glad I missed that, man,” Foggy had sighed. “Although there’s this cute little alpha chick in my Punjabi class. I wonder if she’d want to go out with me. Oh man, she might try and kill me on a first date.”

Matt had laughed. “Yeah, well if she kills you, I should pass all my classes due to the trauma of a dead roommate.”

 

Foggy dates that alpha chick for three months before she kisses his cheek and says if she’s going to make partner by the time she’s 30, she needs to date someone with a title. 

 

Porn always makes omegas a plot point. The naughty schoolgirl, the slutty secretary, the wanton omega— the simpering women going “oh no, don’t spank me sir!” Omegas were submissive, obedient, whining little fucktoys that never questioned anything at all. 

 

So when Claire Temple asks Matt his name, he’s taken aback by her bluntness. Under the smell of her fear, Matt picks up traces of that sugary sweet omega smell. She smells like freshly sugared blueberry muffins. 

“Fine,” she sighs. “I guess I’ll call you Michael.”

 

He can’t see her, but he can smell her. There’s the omega smell, not powerful like some omegas that Matt’s encountered, but potent enough to reveal her status. Her shampoo is coconut, deodorant is generic drugstore brand. Her hands often smell like latex and powder with the burning sting of sanitizer underneath.

 

“My name is Matt,” he tells her as she sews up a stab wound on his shoulder.

 

Her kisses taste like peppermint.

 

Another night, another low-level Hell’s Kitchen thug. 

His arms are covered in road rash from being dragged across the asphalt. Foggy helps him slather Neosporin on his irritated forearms but after the better part of a week, he decides to get Claire’s opinion. 

“Claire?” he calls, letting himself in the unlocked front door of her apartment. “I was wondering if you could look at my arms. I, uh,” he chuckles, “I got my ass beat again.”

Silence. Matt can hear her heart pounding.

“Claire?”

“Matt…” Claire sighs. “I-I can’t.” Her voice wobbles. Her usual smell of blueberry-coconut-deodorant-latex-powder has been replaced by pure hormones. Matt smells sex and sugar and sweat and— _oh God_. 

“Do you…have someone?”

“No,” Claire sniffs, “I don’t. Never…never saw the point. Never understood why I should anchor myself to some alpha who fucks me when he feels like it and expects a litter out of me.”

“I could help you,” Matt offers. “I’ve been told I’m quite good in bed.”

Claire snorts.

“No, seriously,” he says. He takes the few steps towards her, curling his fingers around her upper arm. She’s wearing a flannel bathrobe. “I could help you, if you wanted. But only if you wanted. I know omegas get…” He’s read several omega case studies in law school— he said, she said, heat said. “…crazed. But I’ll only help if you want me to. If not, I’ll leave and you can call me when you feel better.”

Silence. Her heart is still pounding.

“Matt…” her voice is barely a whisper. “I _ache_.”

 

_Go home. Go back to the office._

 

_Fuck her. Make her scream so loud that the neighbors hear it._

 

“Tell you what,” Matt says finally. “Lead me to your bedroom. I’ll be there if you need me.”

Claire swallows loudly but tightly grips his already sore forearm. “Be careful,” she warns, navigating him around an end table. Matt settles himself in her (actually pretty comfortable) bed. He doesn’t strip or expose himself— this has to be about her tonight. He’s still dressed for work, sweating under his button down. But he doesn’t dare loosen or unbutton anything. He’s so hard that it hurts but he doesn’t touch himself. It’s about _Claire_. 

 

He hears water rushing out of the faucet and into the bathtub, followed by the smell of decadent lavender oil. He dozes as he hears Claire in the water— the scratch of a razor against her legs, her sighs as she washes her hair, the whimper as she brushes her shaky fingers against her swollen cunt. 

And oh, that makes Matt almost come in his pants like he’s 14 all over again. His cock is all fat and ready for her, pressing against the zipper of his pants. He wants to kiss all over her body, to taste the lavender on her skin, to let the smell of bath oil and omega sweetness and sex nearly destroy his senses. He wants to get his eager tongue on her cunt and make her lose track of how many times she’s come, squealing and giggling drowsily as he presses wet kisses to her hipbones.

 

Hands on his face startle him. He didn’t even hear her get out of the bath. 

“These are weird,” she mumbles to herself, pulling his glasses off.

“Claire?”

She doesn't respond. Matt can smell the omega fever burning in her. There’s a quiet thud as she drops her towel. “Matt…” there’s a growl in her voice.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Matt says hurriedly, fumbling with his belt, kicking his shoes off, fingers clumsy but _finally_ getting his pants undone, pushing his pants and boxers halfway down his legs. He strokes himself once, twice, _oh_.

“No,” Claire growls, settling on top of him. She grabs his hands in her claws and pins them above his head. Her skin is damp against his clothes and her cunt is so sweet, so close to where he wants her to be. 

“Claire,” he moans. “Claire, please.”

Her hands move to his chest, one hand pressing awkwardly onto a scar. There’s a dull sear of pain but then Claire is crying out _beautifully_ as she sinks down on his cock. 

He wishes he could see her— see her hair fall in damp strands over her shoulders, see her breasts move as she rides him roughly— but her cunt is so wet and hot around him that Matt groans loudly, even as Claire growls at him. His hands are still above his head (she didn’t tell him he could touch her) and he longs to press his calloused thumb to her clit, to feel her spasm and clench on his cock. 

Claire moans loudly as her bed creaks from their movements. Her hips become erratic and jerky, desperately grinding her clit against him. He lifts his hips just enough to press against her deeply. 

“Matt…Matt…oh!” The noise set lets out when she comes is loud, deep, satisfied, her hips wildly, getting as much stimulation to her swollen clit as possible. But she doesn’t stop, hips moving fluidly against him, a giggle in her heavy breaths. 

“Claire." It’s a warning that he’s going to burst any second.

“No,” she gasps. “Please, not yet.”

Matt moans, flexing his hips up to her. She cries out wonderfully every time his cock presses against that magical spot inside her cunt. 

“Oh fuck,” Claire sighs, “fuckfuckfuckfuck _FUCK_!” Her cunt clenches around his cock tightly and Matt can’t stop his own orgasm.

“Claire!” His shoulders arch off her bed, hands fisted in her cheap sheets. Fire pulses through his veins, making him cry out as he comes deep inside her wet cunt. The waves subside and he slumps back into the pillows. When Claire mewls and rubs against his softening cock, he whimpers with overstimulation. 

After a few moments of panting, Claire gets up and walks back into the bathroom. Matt hears the toilet flush as he strips out of the rest of his clothes, settling under the blankets nude and satisfied.

“Thank you,” Claire whispers, slipping into bed next to him.

“Anytime,” he smiles and they both share a laugh. 

They lie together in silence, Claire tracing the scars on his torso. She falls asleep first, with deep, slow breaths. Matt allows himself to curl up against Claire’s back and slip an arm over her waist. In the morning, she’ll be Claire Temple: nurse and omega, and he’ll be Matt Murdock: lawyer and vigilante. 

But for tonight, in Claire’s bed, Matt can shut off the world and live in this moment. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first adventure into omega dynamics. most of the elements here came from an A/B/O original story I wrote a chunk of about two years ago but never actually finished. 
> 
> title from "Dangerous Animals" by the Arctic Monkeys. 
> 
> (also: always pee after sex)


End file.
